Vanwa Ben Le Reborn
by Fatecaster Reborn
Summary: The Fellowship is broken and hope seems lost. As the Three Hunters race to save their Hobbit companions, Fate intervenes in an unlikely way. It's been decided: a certain elf has been alone long enough. Legolas/OC, post-Fellowship break 10th Walker. Some influence from the books. Rated T for eventual romance and adult theme hints.
1. Preface - The Return

Our story takes place after the breaking of the Fellowship of the Ring.

Boromir of Gondor has fallen, the gentle-hearted Merry and Pippin have been kidnapped, and Frodo heads to Mordor with faithful Sam in tow.

Legolas and his companions have tracked the Hobbits into Fangorn Forest with fearful hearts.

What madness has driven them into Fangorn?

Only time will tell how this journey will end.

* * *

A/N: I began this story in 2012, but was forced to set it aside after a hacker stole my account. I present it to you now, freshly edited and on an account I hope will hold up against future problems. Alterations have been made in part to comply with the no-reposting rule on FF. If you'd like to read the original work, please check out Vanwa Ben Le Lost Without You. I _will not update that one._ I will however continue the adventure here. I hope you enjoy!


	2. The Elven Warrior

All LOTR references, characters, places, etc. belong to their original creator, J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my original characters and some additions I will be making to the story.

* * *

 **Chapter 1 - The Elven Warrior**

In the shade of Fangorn, an elven warrior wandered through heavy brush, a hand settled comfortably on her bow. Deep though she was in the forest, she had already come across two parties of orcs. None of them had proven much of a challenge and while part of her thirsted for a better test of her skill, the wiser part merely thanked the Valar for such luck. Still, she knew well enough to stay on guard. Part of her good fortune was owed solely to the aid of the forest itself. During her time there, the young elleth had taken to listening to the trees. With time she was even able to whisper to a few trees touched most strongly by the elven power that had awoken them in the beginning. As she had in other days, she now sensed a disturbance that rippled through the mood of the forest. It carried with it a feeling of danger that sent her into the overhanging branches for cover. Her tunic and leggings matched the dim colors of the woods and hid her well from seeking eyes but it was wise to be cautious regardless. With her powerful senses on high alert, she pressed close to the foliage in hopes of spotting the source of the unease. A snap sounded like thunder through the wood and the elleth carefully readied her bow. The sound of crackling leaves and grunting drew closer and her stance grew tense with anticipation.

The first face to appear through the thicket was a gruesome looking Uruk-hai wearing hastily made armor, stamped with the white hand of Saruman. The pike in his hand was just as poorly made but quality wasn't needed for the damage it could cause. The coarsely shaped steel would slice through delicate flesh with ease. The elf carefully searched the creature, pinpointing the weak spots in its armor before looking back to the brush from which the Uruk-hai had appeared. Following the creature were several orcs, muttering amongst each other with uneasy eyes trained on the woods around them. The squadron was no more comfortable than the young elf but at least the trees knew enough not to harm her. They thirsted for orc blood and would not be stopped from taking their revenge on the foul creatures who cut their brothers down. In this place, these monsters stood no chance. Even now the ancient forest was whispering of its hatred. Time had taught them patience however, and they would not move so long as the elf stood among them, acting in their place.

Among the deep green leaves, it was impossible to notice similarly colored eyes peering down at the invaders and none of the orcs had the patience to remain completely on guard during their long trek. Without the constant threat of combat, orcs easily became complacent. The head of an arrow was effortlessly hidden from them amongst the leaves regardless.

Taking careful aim, the elleth let loose the arrow with a whispering of the wind muffling the twang of her bow. Her aim held true, striking the Uruk-hai right under his arm. Another arrow followed quickly and the creature was felled before the orcs even realized their superior had been shot. Mayhem followed as the orcs shouted and began searching for the invisible assassin. The flash of an elven blade caught one unfortunate orc's attention and he was the second to die by the elf's hand as she took to the ground. Once they realized the killer was among them – and that it was a female – the others turned and began circling her, taunting carelessly. One particularly gruesome creature snarled, "Look boys, seems lunch has found us today!" The elleth turned slowly, tracking their movements as they stepped closer. A second orc sneered as he spoke, licking his lips in anticipation. "Maybe we should have a little fun with her first, eh? No one to stop us."

Too foolish to notice the warrior's glint in the elf's eyes, the orc leapt forward, swinging his ax wildly. It only took a moment for her to evade the poorly aimed blow and with a flash of her blade the orc was beheaded. Again the stunted creatures simply stood in disbelief. Returning to her relaxed stance, the elf glowered at them. Her voice was cold as she addressed the whole unit, "Even for orcs you're disappointing. This will be far easier than I would have liked." With those words she leapt forward, carving through the group as they put up a last ditch effort to crowd her into submission.

A few meters away, a great miscalculation was about to change the course of her fate. The Uruk-hai moved slightly, a breath of life still left in him. Weakly, he reached for his horn and blew three sharp notes into it. The warrior spun around, her expression grim as she recognized the call for reinforcements. She cursed swiftly in Dwarfish, as there are no real curses in Elven, and quickly dispatched the last of the creatures. A roar echoed through the forest and the elf threw her bow over her shoulder hastily. She took to the north, using the natural speed of her heritage to put distance between herself and the host that had answered the Uruk-hai's last call. Weaving through the maze of trees, she shook them from her trail carefully, not wanting to lead the orcs to her destination. As the foliage grew thicker, she slowed. The noise had faded into nothingness and a safe clearing lay just ahead. It took only a moment to push through the last of the underbrush with her sword and she pressed onwards wearily. She had secured this clearing several weeks ago, laying traps to protect the spot in her absence. Seeing several untouched nearby, she settled comfortably against a log to rest a moment.

The calm did not last as she expected however, as a strange rustling caught her eye just to the left of the clearing several minutes later. She stepped forward to investigate the disturbance, but was caught unprepared as the branches of the bush suddenly exploded outwards. A wicked looking crossbow arrow shot towards her and the elleth heaved her sword up, knocking the steel rod aside with bare inches to spare. The dull thud of its landing sounded behind her but the elf had far greater priorities to focus on. Immediately following the arrow were burnished steel weapons of every kind in the hands of a great host of orcs. The elf's eyes widened in shock at the flood of enemies. The skill with which they had hidden their presence was unbelievable and the attack had caught her completely off guard. It was too great a mass for one fighter, but her options were limited. Her enemies rose from all sides and the thicket grew too crowded for her to slip away from behind. She swiftly took count of the mass, finding nearly three dozen on the attack. With no clear escape route, she had no choice but to fight her way through.

Her arrows took the first of the orcs to their deaths, making their comrades cautious as they approached. The bronze fletched weapons did not last long though. When the last of them slid from her fingertips, the elleth switched to her long sword. From her boot she also drew a narrow dagger that could slay just as easily with the right angle. If she was going to survive, she would have to make it back to the trees. There, she could take to the sky and vanish in the foliage. Shifting into a predatory crouch, she let loose a cry of her own and flew forward into the hoard. There was no fear, no hesitation now. Death would not take her here.

* * *

 _A/N: This fic has seen a lot of love since its creation, and now brand new wording gives it a shiny finish. I hope you enjoy the adjustments! If for some reason, you prefer the old version, feel free to leave me a love note about why. I'm absolutely open to comments, constructive criticism, and story predictions so please feel free to message me and leave a review! There's no formal posting schedule for this yet, but I will let you know as soon as I have it sorted._


	3. The Cry of Evil

All LOTR references, characters, places, etc. belong to their original creator, J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my original characters and some additions I will be making to the story.

* * *

 **Chapter 2 - The Cry of Evil**

Tracking the little Hobbits was proving more difficult than Aragorn had anticipated, but he had to find them. His frustration was easy to direct to the wildly growing vines and branches that grew thicker as they ventured deeper into the woods. The Fellowship had been broken but he refused to abandon his friends. He would cut through every tree if he had to, in order to save them.

Trailing closely behind him was his closest companion, Legolas. The elf seemed less tense than his counterparts, focusing instead on some facet of the forest that Aragorn could not see. The longing in his eyes was easy to see as he touched one trunk or another periodically. The creaking trees almost seemed to respond to the attention, creating an unnerving chorus of sound. Gimli seemed most unsettled, with his ax close and a frown upon his face. His voice was gruff as he commented nervously, "The air is so close here."

Aragorn could feel it too, and he turned to see Legolas looking at the trees with some concern on his face. It was such a different expression from a moment before that the Ranger paused in his search, waiting to hear the elf's thoughts. Legolas answered the unspoken query warily, "This forest is old. Very old. Full of memory…and anger."

The warning in Legolas's voice caused Gimli to raise his ax unconsciously, ready to strike at any unseen enemy. Aragorn found himself mimicking the motion but quickly stayed his hand. It would do no good to panic over so little a remark, especially since Legolas had regressed once more into an eager elfling. With barely concealed enthusiasm, the elf exclaimed, "The trees are speaking to each other!"

Aragorn glanced about in confusion. Speaking to each other? He could hear no sound but the creaking….but perhaps that was in fact the communication? It was unnerving, to say the least. The stories he'd been told as a child had always made the trees seem more personable. He opened his mouth to say as much when the trees suddenly grew louder. Even to the untrained ear, they seemed dangerously displeased. Aragorn whipped around, trying to see what had caused the change. From the corner of his eye he spotted Legolas stepping towards Gimli, who had given into his nerves. The Ranger quickly motioned for the dwarf to lower his weapon, berating him quietly. Surely the trees did not appreciate being threatened with something so dangerous to them.

* * *

Legolas was awed into silence at the sound of the trees. Part of him was fearful of their anger, but he was overcome with wonder at how sentient the trees were. He had often heard the stories of talking trees and indeed, there were several in his own Mirkwood. However, few elves had ever experienced a phenomenon such as this. Though he could not clearly make out all the words they spoke, some phrases were clearer than others. They seemed displeased and made mention of strangers in their midst. Seeing the fear and confusion on Gimli's face, Legolas explained, "They have feelings, my friend."

Again the respect seeped into his voice as he continued, "The Elves began it. Waking up the trees, teaching them to speak." Almost without thought, the prince moved forward through the trees, brushing a hand against the aged trunk of one oak. He longed to stay and explore the secrets of this place, but they had greater tasks to accomplish yet.

They pressed onward to the sound of Gimli muttering to himself, much to the humor of his fellow hunters. "Talking trees." He huffed in typical dwarf fashion and glanced about, continuing, "What do trees have to talk about, hm? Except the consistency of squirrel droppings." It took every inch of self-control Legolas possessed not to laugh at the dwarf, settling for shaking his head instead. For such a small being, Gimli could certainly make quite a ruckus.

The three companions continued in silence for a time after that, Legolas taking the lead as the afternoon light grew dimmer. So focused on his task was he, that it was a moment before the elf realized that Aragorn had stopped in his tracks. The Ranger raised a hand towards a side path, murmuring to Legolas, "I think there's something ahead. Can you hear anything?" He paused, only to have Gimli crash into him. The dwarf fell with a great thump and a many loud curses. A small smile lit upon the prince's lips, sending the small man into an even greater rage as he struggled to stand. "Blasted elves, always doing as they please with no concerns for others!" Legolas held out a hand, his clear blue eyes sparkling with humor as he retorted, "Or foolish dwarves, never looking where they are going." Before Gimli could reply in indignation, Aragorn silenced him with a sharp glance and looked at Legolas. "What do you hear?"

Seriousness returning, it took him only a few steps to reach the man before closing his eyes in order to focus. The gentle creak of the trees was the most obvious of sounds, with the ever constant crash of waves against a shore crowding his mind. The familiar effect sent shivers down the prince's spine. That was a dangerous sound, though not the one Aragorn sought. Legolas listened closer still, leaning forward in his attempt to grasp at it. It sounded like...the clash of steel? The blast of a horn broke his concentration and the elf leapt forward, drawing his bow. He did not bother to wait for the others, trusting that they would follow.

* * *

It was difficult to pinpoint what made him stop. Aragon was raised on the trust of his instincts, and though he had no visible proof, he knew something was wrong. This was immediately reinforced by the panic that crossed Legolas's face before he sprang into action. Aragorn did not wait for words, instead beckoning for Gimli and following after his friend. Thankfully, Legolas offered up reasoning as they ran, shouting, "The sound of a horn, deeper in the woods! And a battle – orcs by the sound of things. It may be Merry and Pippin!"

With each passing second the sounds grew clearer and closer, bringing fear with it. Whatever was happening sounded ominously violent and Aragorn dreaded the thought of their gentle Hobbit companions trapped in the middle of it. The fear in his heart pushed him harder and he drew ahead of his companions to break from the thick brush first.

As he registered the mayhem before him, the Ranger was shocked to find not their friends, but a lone female elf struggling in the midst of a battalion of orcs. Surrounded on all sides, she appeared battered, though her back was turned to them. Aragorn could see the skill with which she wielded her weapons, but it was obvious that her dexterity would not be enough to defeat the whole of the hoard. With a shout, Aragorn ripped his sword from its sheath and dove into the fray to assist.

Legolas slipped into the clearing not far behind him, bow flashing in the faint sunlight. The solid stream of arrows seemed to drive back the worst of them, giving Aragorn a moment to analyze the situation. Gimli was last to the battle, still wheezing from exertion as he grated out a battle cry, slicing the head from a nearby orc. Working together as easily as they had in past weeks, the trio soon turned the tide of battle, cutting down orcs that seemed more interested in fleeing now, save for a few of the larger creatures. For a time, the other elf seemed to have things under control in her own efforts, but as they approached, Aragorn saw her flinch. The motion was enough to give her enemy an opening and he overcame her in a heartbeat.

Aragorn felt a wrench in his stomach as the elleth turned in an attempt to avoid the spear flying towards her. He roared in anger, fear pressing at his heart. Forcing his way through the remaining orcs with little help from his companions, the Ranger swept like fire through the clearing. For in the last moments of the battle, he had seen something that he never expected.

A familiar face.

* * *

 _A/N: Ah yes, the much awaited introduction of our key players. This scene always felt a little flat to me when I originally wrote it. I'm quite pleased to have been able to expand on it further now. I suppose some good has come of this restarting business._

 _I hope you enjoyed the chapter! Let me know what you thought in a review, or feel free to message me._


	4. The Mark of Battle and Friendship

All LOTR references, characters, places, etc. belong to their original creator, J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my original characters and some additions I will be making to the story.

* * *

 **Chapter 3 - The Mark of Battle and Friendship**

The arrival of strangers had been infinitely well timed. Just as the situation seemed hopeless, three warriors had burst forth from the thicket – a man, a dwarf, and most surprisingly, an elf. All were well armed and leapt into the fray with unexpected fervor, battle cries echoing in the clearing. The sound gave her the strength to continue her own attack, feeling vestiges of strength returning to her. The blades she held sang against the wind as they broke through the faltering numbers of orcs, rending flesh and bone with every stroke. A welcome sense of control overcame her as she twisted and wove around the hoard and for the moment, fear fled her heart. Yet even as she fought on with all her might, the help of the strangers was much needed. A sudden wave of enemies overtook her, giving their all in a last attempt to defeat their enemies. Unprepared and overwhelmed, she did not see an orc lift its commander's abandoned pike. Larger than his kin, his long stride and longer reach was enough to drive the weapon into the elleth's side. With the last of her strength, she slew the orc and pulled the spiked steel from her flesh with an agonized moan. The pain was overwhelming and opened her up to attacks from all sides as her senses faltered. As though a heavy fog had settled around her head, the elleth faintly heard the cry of one of the warriors. It seemed to inspire a new fire in his companions and they dispensed with the remaining enemies quickly. Drawn to her knees by an overpowering exhaustion, her eyes to fell closed without warning.

An unnatural breeze sweeping over her lifted the haze momentarily, allowing her to force herself back into awareness. She turned to see the male elf kneeling alongside her, brow furrowed with concern. She managed a weary nod in his direction, trying not to move for fear of aggravating her wound. Had she the strength, she would have greeted him more formally, but the mere thought of raising her arm pained her. As it was, she could not bring herself to even gather her fallen weapons. The other elf's unexpectedly soft voice broke the silence then, murmuring, "Esteë, lle yassen mellonea." _{Rest, you are with friends}_. Before she could respond, he knelt close and drew her up into his arms, taking her to where his companions stood waiting. Her faint protests seemed to fall on deaf ears, so she reluctantly accepted the assistance. It wasn't likely she would get far without his help. Instead she gave into the urge to close her eyes once more, allowing her other senses to take over in an attempt to block out her pain. It was almost impossible to ignore the angry whispers of the trees as they spoke of being defiled by orcs, and she found little comfort in the aura they presented. It was not the first time she would be forced to tune them out to save her own sanity. The trees could easily sway her mental state if she allowed them too much influence over her.

It felt as though they walked for ages before a pause came. Cracking her eyes open, the elleth watched the dwarf set to making camp as their last companion laid out a bedroll hastily. With great care, the elf set her down onto the softer surface, crouching again to be at her level. It took a moment to fight the haze creeping across her vision, her attention too fixed to register the eleven query that passed the stranger's lips. She shook her head in an attempt to regain clarity and thankfully the elf seemed to realize she had not understood the first time. He repeated the question slower this time, "Mani naa essa en lle?" _{What is your name?}_

Her reply was excruciatingly slow as she struggled to piece words into a meaningful response. After a failed attempt, she was able to respond quietly, "Alyssae. Ima min tuulò-" _{Alyssae. I am from-}_

The appearance of the strange man caused her response to taper off, shock registering on her face. Though it had been many years since she last was home, she found familiar features. He had certainly grown, but Alyssae could never forget a gentle face such as Aragorn's. Worry shining in his eyes, the Ranger finished her sentence, "Rivendell. She hails from Rivendell."

The blonde elf registered this new information with a slight widening of his eyes, but held his composure remarkably well. Alyssae smiled carefully, addressing Aragorn directly, "It has been a very long time mellon. I did not expect to see you so far from home." To her surprise, the man chuckled before replying, "I am not the only one so far away." Alyssae raised a brow at that, but found she couldn't disagree. Glancing at each of the companions in turn she responded, "Tanya naa sai vanya lle quena." _{That is absolutely fair to say.}_

The fog of pain was becoming sharper now, and she barely registered the companions teasing each other good-naturedly. Shaking her head did no good in lessening the pain and she gratefully accepted the water skin her friend offered. The motion made her hopelessly dizzy and she instinctively grabbed at the wound in her side, hissing when the pain flared at the source. Aragorn tugged the water skin from her grasp and gently moved her hand aside. A ragged gasp slipped past his lips and Alyssae forced herself to look down at the injury. She paled upon catching sight of the gaping hole which stretched several inches just above her hip. Even with the endurance of an elf, her body could only withstand so much trauma. She clearly understood now why her head ached so fiercely, and why exhaustion pulled at her consciousness even now. Aragorn immediately set about putting pressure on the wound with a bit of torn fabric, scolding her as he worked, "Why were you engaging that battalion? They could have killed you Alyssae." He shook his head and barked at Legolas to soak a handful of rags in water before continuing, "What are you even doing here?"

It took several deep breaths to work past the urgent pain in her side to respond. When she did, her words were sharp, "I miscalculated. As for being here, I think you had better answer that first. I am in no mood for an interrogation Aragorn."

* * *

Seeing Alyssae for the first time in decades had been a wildly unexpected shock for Aragorn. If he was being with honest with himself though, as much as he wanted an explanation for her sudden appearance, she was right. Now was not the time to seek answers, not while his hand was coated in her blood as he sought to control the bleeding. The elleth seemed barely conscious as it was, and he was concerned about the severity of her injury.

From the corner of his eye, Aragorn noticed Legolas bristling with indignation and turned to the elf. Placing a hand on the elf's shoulder, Aragorn quietly stopped what he was sure was a scathing retort to the younger elf. Legolas was a true friend, ready to defend the Ranger to his last, but it was not necessary now. Aragorn sensed Alyssae's close attention as his friend reluctantly left the topic alone. Hoping to distract both elves from their current thoughts, he answered the elleth's question. "We are searching for two Hobbits. Halflings that would appear as children to most eyes." He took new cloths from Legolas, and began to clean her wound, continuing, "They were taken captive by orcs and fled into the woods." He did not offer any more detail than that; the death of Boromir and his anger at failing to protect them was still fresh in his heart. It did not seem required though, as Alyssae looked at him in disbelief before turning to face the trees. Her eyes seemed to wander across the branches as she whispered, "This is what they spoke of…"

Aragorn began to ask what she meant when the elleth froze, pressing her hands to her head again as her eyes lost focus. He was prepared to leave the matter be, yet she continued in an urgent tone, "The trees have spoken of the White Wizard. Something has changed. I wonder if it has to do with these Halflings of yours."

After this observation, Alyssae seemed to fall mute, her eyes distant and pained. Though he ached to know more, Aragorn knew they would have to repair the damage to her body first. She was losing too much blood. He would have to bind the wound tightly. As he reached for the pouch containing his healing plants, Alyssae whisper softly, "Amin anta est." _{I need to rest}_. Aragorn immediately shook his head, grasping her shoulders and replying, "You cannot go to sleep yet Alyssae. I need to stop this bleeding. It is too dangerous to sleep now. Keep talking to me. How did you learn to speak with the trees?" The question was a desperate attempt to capture her attention. He feared what would happen if she slept now.

The attempt was fruitless however, as the elleth failed to respond. Aragorn gently grasped her face between his hands and looked closely at her eyes. Though she tried to focus, her dark pupils were wide and vacant. Cursing swiftly, Aragorn pulled away and began pressing an herb against a swath of damp cloth, trying to expel the healing sap from it. With any luck, the herb would aid her body in controlling the bleeding.

His focus snapped when Legolas lunged forward, calling his name. Alyssae had fallen forward, caught only due to the speed of the elf she lay against now. Legolas looked helplessly at Aragorn, unsure of what to do. The curses grew louder as the Ranger worked anxiously to prepare the bandages. As it was, there was little he was able to do, aside from wrapping the wound tightly and helping Legolas lay her down along the bedroll. If the poultice did not work and the bleeding continued, she would be lost to them. They could only wait, and see if her strength held.

* * *

 _A/N: Apologies for the delayed chapter. February is a tough month for me so I stepped away for a bit. But I'm back now!_

 _There are quite a few unexplained things happening here, especially in the relationship between Aragorn and Alyssae. It should be interesting to watch that come to light, no? That is, if she lives long enough to do so. Better stay tuned to find out!_


	5. The Weight of the Wounded

All LOTR references, characters, places, etc. belong to their original creator, J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my original characters and some additions I will be making to the story.

* * *

 _ **A/N (6/2/16): This chapter is meant to go before Aragorn and Gimli's perspectives, if you have been following along from the start. Everything is now in proper order.**_

 **Chapter 4 - The Weight o** **f** **the Wounded**

Legolas was no stranger to the horrors of war, but somehow this felt different. As he held the elleth upright to allow Aragorn to treat her, his stomach rolled with concern. The fear in the Ranger's eyes was potent and raw, and it impacted the elf more than he cared to acknowledge. It drew too close to the last memory he had of Tauriel. Instead he pointedly looked away as Aragorn lifted her tunic to investigate the wound. Though she had many cuts and bruises, the worst of it was centered on her hip. Legolas could feel blood seeping into his own clothes from the source. As the worst of it was revealed, Aragorn made a tortured sound and the elf found himself looking despite his better judgement. It was easy to see why the Ranger was so horrified. A fist-length portion of pale skin had been torn aside and dark blood pooled grotesquely along the loose flesh, creating small rivers of red that disappeared into the soiled waistband of her pants. Legolas forced himself to take several deep breaths, feeling lightheaded with disgust. Orc steel was utterly ruthless and certainly looked to have lived up to its purpose here. Every fiber of his being recoiled at the thought of what would have happened if they had not arrived to aid her. Elf or not, she had been in grave danger. Even now her fate rested with the Valar, and he sent a simple prayer skyward. They had allowed the trio to discover her, and now he could only hope they intended her to live despite this injury.

After they eased the elleth to the ground, Legolas moved aside to allow Aragorn space to work. Voice soft, he inquired, "What can I do?" The reply was short and to the point. "More water, and the rest of my herbs." The elf nodded and began rifling through Aragorn's pack where he knew the Ranger kept the remainder of his herbs. Gimli approached him with his water skin a moment later and offered it to the elf. He had clearly heard the urgent request. Legolas thanked him and the dwarf nodded before retreating to search for firewood. It was an unspoken agreement that they would stay here tonight.

With herbs and water in hand, Legolas returned to Aragorn's side. Both items were put into immediate use as Aragorn explained what he was doing. "Even if the bleeding can be stopped, her body will not recover easily on its own. The bandages will need to be cleaned often to prevent infection." He placed several crushed herbs into the water skin and closed it, shaking the container before continuing, "And with any luck, she will wake soon." Legolas recognized the concoction Aragorn was creating now. It would give her strength in small measures, something that would be necessary if her body was to heal itself. With instruction from Aragorn, Legolas set about using the last of the damp rags to clean Alyssae's minor wounds. Even the smallest injury could become easily infected and put her in danger.

Between the two of them, Alyssae was soon tended to as best they could. After carefully burning the soiled rags he'd used, Aragorn instructed Legolas to watch over the elleth while he stepped away to wash the blood from his hands. Gimli had since wandered to the edge of the clearing, giving Legolas some much appreciated time alone. The day had been long and he was eager to sort through the chaos that made up his thoughts.

Much of his unease could easily be traced to the elf laying prone before him, her blood staining his own clothes and skin. It made no sense for an elf to be here in the darkest corner of the wood. Why was she not with others of their kind, heading into the West? The call of the undying lands was difficult to resist, leaving only a small number of elves untouched. Legolas could not even claim that separation, as the sea called out to his aching heart every moment of the day. Then, there was the matter of her relationship to Aragorn, who seemed to know her well. Legolas had been friends with the Ranger for many years and he found himself wondering why Alyssae had never been mentioned. Aragorn was normally quite open with him and it was uncomfortable being in the dark on someone who was clearly important to the Ranger.

Legolas could not abide being unable to see the whole of any situation. It was an all too familiar problem in these days. Between the dark machinations of Sauron, and the fearful plotting of Men, it was hard to see the world clearly anymore. Though he had managed to keep his outward composure, the elven prince was growing more and more uneasy as they traveled. His mask of calm had grown thin with the threat of darkness at their every turn. Even now, he had a precariously placed lid upon his emotions. The raging guilt at his failure to protect the Hobbits, the fear that they would fall to Sauron, the sorrow of being away from his beloved Mirkwood, the gnawing loneliness that was only fed by the constant murmuring of the sea in his ear – all of it strained at his heart. However, with a practiced tug on his mental safeguards, Legolas pulled back the rolling emotions. They were burdens that would not be soothed by thinking on them longer, and so the elf forced his attention towards their newest companion instead. It was easy to concentrate on cataloging her features while she lay unmoving. Staring so blatantly would no doubt have been uncomfortable for her, had she been awake. Yet it was a small victory to be able to investigate some part of today's insanity to his heart's content, even if it was only the appearance of the stranger who had started it all.

She was fair despite clear signs of having lived outdoors for a time, with a thick braid of brown hair that marked her easily as an elf of the Last Homely House. Lord Elrond and those under his care were known for their dark features, just as Legolas's own people were recognized for their pale eyes and blonde hair. The only difference between the elleth and her kind however, lay in eyes that were closed now. He had little trouble recalling their color. They had matched the brush around them almost perfectly, in a shade that was rare to elves. Even clouded with pain, they had been something to behold. He hoped, for Aragorn's sake, that they would see them open again soon.


	6. The Blood We Fear

All LOTR references, characters, places, etc. belong to their original creator, J.R.R. Tolkien. I only own my original characters and some additions I will be making to the story.

* * *

 _ **A/N (6/2/16): I missed a chapter when I updated. Please go back and read the new Chapter 4 for the updated story. This chapter will make much more sense with that Chapter. The Blood We Fear remains unedited from the original upload. It's simply Chapter 5 now.**_

 **Chapter 5 - The Blood We Fear**

It took all of Aragorn's control to keep his voice even as he spoke to Legolas. As soon as he was able to, the Ranger had stepped away. Eyes fixed in horrified fascination on the red that stained his hands, Aragorn could only follow the sound of rolling water to find the river within the trees. He had been coated in the blood of friends and foes alike more times than he could remember. None had ever struck him so cold before.

No, that wasn't true.

The dark stain on his mother's hand after collapsing one day had ruined him just as thoroughly. It was a memory that never failed to turn his stomach and the sight of blood fresh on his own hands worsened the remembrance. He quickly found himself doubling over, retching into the grass. The cool ground helped to sooth his overheated skin, but it was a few moments before the Ranger could breathe and force himself upright.

He moved closer to the bank and scrubbed viciously at his hands in disgust, driving Alyssae's blood into the moving water before him. In cleaning himself he found some composure, but it did not remove the uneasiness from his mind over the scene he'd left at the camp. There were no words to describe the fear that had overtaken the him in the first moments after spotting Alyssae in the hoard. There had been no warning, no clue that the elleth had been anywhere but in Rivendell where he'd left her. In that single moment on the battlefield he'd found and nearly lost her.

Even beyond the question of her reappearance was the pressing matter of her words concerning the White Wizard. Had Saruman managed to track down Merry and Pippin? If the wizard managed to lay hands on them, there was little hope for the Hobbits. Still, they would try to rescue the two. Against all odds, they had created something of a family. Aragorn was sure his companions shared the same sentiment. There would be no thoughts of abandoning their friends to a fate filled with such horror. They could not suffer another loss. With her ability to speak to the trees, perhaps Alyssae would be of more assistance in uncovering the whereabouts of the Hobbits before they could come to harm. For that, and _many_ other reasons, they needed the elleth to survive.

As an elf, Alyssae was capable of healing much faster than mortals and it was this gift that Aragorn would have to rely on now. His herbs could help the process, but the elleth's fate lay in her own hands. Rather than discouraging him though, this thought brought some measure of optimism with it. He knew his friend; she did not give up easily.

With queasiness under control and newfound hope in his heart, Aragorn rose. In the event Alyssae woke up, he knew she would wish to treat her own wounds. In Rivendell the elf had been a healer in her own right; it was only fair she be given the chance to look after herself.

Aragorn would need to prepare supplies, but it would be some time before they could expect Alyssae to wake. With this in mind, Aragorn chose to take a longer route to return to his companions. Walking was a balm to his mood and he needed to have his emotions well settled before making an appearance at the camp.

* * *

Gimli was not a dwarf without emotion. While his companions knew him best for his hotheaded speeches and coarse language, Gimli was deeply protective of their little rag-tag family. There was a courage and pure goodness about his companions that he so rarely saw in their war torn world. And while he was still vaguely cautious around Legolas, the dwarf had come to deeply respect Aragorn. As a capable warrior with a solid personality, the man was hard to dislike. Having grown so used to that steady presence, it shook something deep within Gimli to see Aragorn so fearful.

The female elf that lay at the center of activity had come as a surprise. After traveling to Rivendell and Lothlorien, Gimli had come to believe that all their women were gentle, quiet types. Even Galadriel, who was a presence all her own, had been demure and magnificent in her beauty. Now he had a very different image in his mind. The image of a warrior whose skill matched that of any of theirs, easily. One who fearlessly stared down an entire battalion of orc scum as though she intended to destroy them with naught but a bow and blade. If not for the scum with the pike, he would not have doubted her ability to achieve just that.

As his companions worked over her battered figure, Gimli took it upon himself to assemble the camp for the night. It was the most he could offer, having no talent for healing. With his ear open to any activity as he worked, the dwarf was quick to respond to the need for water before resuming his preparations. It seemed better to stay out of their way rather than adding to the chaos.

By the time Aragorn stood, the sky had shifted into dusk and Gimli was laid out next to the warm glow of the fire. With tired eyes he watched the warrior blindly wander into the woods. Startled by the wild look in his eyes, the dwarf rose onto his arms. Something more was clearly going on. The Ranger had called the elf friend, but Gimli had not heard the whole tale. Perhaps that was what haunted Aragorn now. Part of him worried for the man, but Aragorn carried his sword and the river was close. They would surely hear if another attack struck. It was hard to imagine such a thing occurring though, as silence fell over the clearing. Before long, the soft sounds of night lulled Gimli back down onto his bedroll and into a light sleep. Tracking had been difficult and the dwarf was more than ready for a break. Until the world ended or his companions needed him, Gimli would rest.

* * *

 _A/N: I am **so** sorry for the enormous delay in chapters guys and for how short this chapter is. I've been working almost without pause in order to pay off a much-needed vacation and this story got put on hold. I can't promise faster updates yet, but it _**_is_** _on my mind now. So with any luck, I will be able to keep up better._

 _In the previous version of this story I feel I did a great injustice to Gimli. At the time I took him on as more of a comic relief when he is really so much more. I hope to repair that injustice here. He's the hardest for me to write, but I feel I really owe it to his character to try my best. Please, let me know what you think and if you have any constructive criticism I'd love to hear from you. Until next time, enjoy~_


End file.
